


playing with fire

by poetictragedy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Reversal, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biting, Claiming, Fingering, First Time, Hair Pulling, Jealousy, Light Bondage, M/M, Marking, Oral Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Seduction, Sibling Incest, spitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 05:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetictragedy/pseuds/poetictragedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Michael comes in late from a night with Dean, Lucifer finds out that his little brother has been fooling around with an older man. He gets jealous and thinks about his brother with someone other than him, and decides that he’s had enough of that — no one can have Michael but him.</p><p>(Michael is sixteen, Lucifer's nineteen)</p>
            </blockquote>





	playing with fire

It’s a hot Friday night in the middle of summer and Lucifer is passed out on the couch, a thin sheet hanging off his legs, most of the fabric crumpled onto the floor in front of the couch. The television is on and muted, the bright light illuminated the dark room as Lucifer sleeps face down on the cushions, both arms tucked under his chin; he’s halfway through a dream about one of his professors when the door opens and slams shut. Lucifer wakes up with a start and rolls over onto his side, sitting up, his head dizzy and groggy.

“What the fuck,” he mumbles and leans over, blindly grasping for the string on the lamp beside the couch; when his fingers touch the beaded cord, he tugs it and shields his eyes from the bright light. 

There are noises at the door and Lucifer blinks his eyes sleepily, trying to get them adjusted to the light in the room. When he can open his eyes all the way, Lucifer looks toward the door and sees Michael standing there, hunched over as he pulls his shoes off. “Michael?”

The kid looks up and blushes, teeth caught on his lower lip. “Hey, Luce.”

“You’re home…” Lucifer starts, leaning forward to grab his phone off the coffee table; he hits the power button at the top and stares at his phone when he sees the time. “You’re home  _late_ , Mikey.” His words are soft as he looks back at his brother, noticing the way he shifts from one foot to the other, hands in his pockets.

“I know,” Michael mumbles, alternating between talking and chewing on his lip, “and I’m real sorry, Luce — I was over at Dean’s, and I kind of forgot to check the time.” He looks at Lucifer with pleading eyes and his bottom lip pushed out, bangs falling in front of his face.

Sighing, Lucifer shakes his head. “I told you, Mikey, you can’t stay over at Dean’s past nine o’clock,” he stops and yawns quietly, “and it’s past midnight.”

“ _Lucifer_.” His name comes out as a whine and Lucifer shakes his head, jaw clenched; he looks at Michael - really looks at him - and notices that he’s wearing a shirt at  _least_  one size too big for him. Raising an eyebrow and cocking his head to the side, Lucifer motions toward Michael’s body. “What’s with the oversize t-shirt?”

Michael looks down and pulls a hand from his pocket, fingering the hem of the fabric, shrugging his shoulders as he looks back up at Lucifer, a shy smile on his face. He lets go of the shirt and walks forward, mumbling, “I spilled something on mine, so Dean gave me one of his to wear.” 

 _That explains why it’s so big on him_ , Lucifer thinks to himself, suppressing a snort as Michael gets closer; the kid comes into the light and he cocks his head to the side, giving Lucifer a perfect view of his throat. Normally, Lucifer wouldn’t be bothered seeing Michael’s neck, but when he sees the dark, purple bruise on the side of his throat he clenches his jaw tighter.

“Where’d you get that?” Lucifer points to the spot on Michael’s neck, anger coursing through his veins as he mumbles, “And don’t tell me from a vacuum cleaner or from a doorknob — neither of those excuses fly with me.” As Lucifer talks, he watches the way Michael’s body language changes and he raises his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for his brother to answer his question.

There’s a moment of hesitation; Michael uses this time to shift his weight from one foot to the other and chews on his lower lip, considering the possible answers carefully. He knows that he can’t tel Lucifer the truth because that will, without a doubt, mean that he will tell their mother. Sighing heavily, Michael shrugs and lifts a hand, touching the bruise, his lips twitching into a smile at the corners.

“Dean,” he finally replies, figuring the truth’s better than nothing.

“You mean to tell me,” Lucifer stands up as he talks, dropping his phone onto the cushions; he towers over Michael by a few inches and he looks down at his brother as he continues, “that you let a  _twenty-five year old man_  give you a hickey? Michael — you’re only sixteen!” He’s shouting now, loud enough for their neighbors - and Dean - to hear, but Lucifer doesn’t care; he’s angry, hurt, and a little jealous.

Michael looks up at him and nods his head. “I’ve let him — do other things,” he admits, his voice quiet and squeaky; Lucifer barely catches the words.

“Jesus, Michael,” Lucifer sighs, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose; he knew the kid had a crush on Dean from the way he constantly talked about him, but he didn’t know Michael had actually done anything with the man. “What else have you let him do, Mikey? And don’t worry, you’re not in trouble — I just wanna know, okay?”

After a moment, Michael’s eyes drop away from Lucifer’s and it sounds like he’s crying; his shoulders are hunched forward, long bangs falling in front of his face and Lucifer wraps his arm around Michael, pulling him close. Michael presses his face against Lucifer’s chest, balling his fists up against his brother’s stomach. 

When he’s calmed down enough to speak, Michael mumbles, “I fucked him.” 

The words hit Lucifer hard and he bites his lower lip, carding a hand through his brother’s hair, shushing him softly. He holds onto Michael and sighs, resting his chin against his little brother’s head until he’s certain that Michael is okay. They ease apart and he looks down, brushing the hair out of Michael’s face, giving him a soft, reassuring smile. “Did you consent to it, or did he pressure you?”

“I — I wanted it,” Michael admits, a blush fleeting across his cheeks. “He didn’t, you know, at first but I kind of seduced him,” he laughs and Lucifer swallows hard at the lump in his throat, trying not to think of his baby brother seducing a man nine years older than him.

“Well,” Lucifer starts with a sigh, keeping his tone light, “as long as  _you_  wanted it and he didn’t force you into anything… then I won’t tell anyone, okay? But you can’t see him anymore, Michael, or else people will start to get suspicious and Dean could get locked up for a long time.”

Michael’s lower lip trembles and he nods, lifting a hand to wipe away the stray tears from his cheeks. He wraps his arms around Lucifer’s neck and hugs him tightly, pulling him down until their chest are pressing together the best they can; Lucifer wraps an arm around Michael and then pulls away, chuckling. 

“Get in bed before mom gets home.” 

“Yes sir,” Michael says playfully, dropping his arms away from Lucifer’s neck before turning to walk away; in that moment, Lucifer swats his ass playfully and sits back on the couch. He watches his little brother walk away and sighs, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, wishing that he were in a weird, fucked up dream and that Michael would still be an innocent sixteen year old when he woke up.

He waits a few minutes before getting up and checking on Michael; Lucifer peeks into his room and smiles when he sees that his brother is already in bed. After a quiet goodnight, Lucifer shuts the door and goes back into the living room to turn the television and the lights off, before making his way to his room. 

As Lucifer undresses, all he can think about is the mark on Michael’s neck and the way he talked about seducing Dean like it was nothing. He swallows hard and climbs into bed, pulling the sheets over his body as he stares out the window, thinking about what Michael’s done for Dean — has he given him a blow job? Did he lose his virginity to the older man? Lucifer wonders, dimly, if Michael fucked Dean and grins at the thought of his short baby brother on his knees behind the taller man, fucking him like no tomorrow.

That thought makes Lucifer groan and he moves a hand down to his boxers, pressing the palm against the front; he lets out a louder groan when he feels his hard cock underneath the fabric. For a moment, he wonders if what he’s doing is sick or fucked up, but that doesn’t stop him from peeling the fabric away and jerking himself off to the thought of Michael on his knees for Dean, begging for his cock.

Lucifer falls asleep with his boxers halfway down his thighs and come on the sheets; he wakes up sometime in the morning to the sound of his mother and Michael moving around the apartment and blinks his eyes sleepily, yawning as he swings his legs off the edge of the bed. He pushes the sheet back and sees the mess of dried come on the underside of the fabric, frowning at it. 

“I’m going to have to do laundry today,” he mutters to himself as he stands, pushing his boxers to the floor before kicking them aside. Moving to the dresser, Lucifer opens the top drawer and pulls out a pair of plaid pajama pants, slipping them on as he makes his way to the door.

Their mother walks by him and smiles. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” she teases.

“Morning,” Lucifer replies and yawns quietly, giving her a sleepy smile as he scratches the top of his head. “Where’s Mikey?”

“Kitchen,” his mother says before disappearing into her room; the door shuts behind her and Lucifer walks down the hall, crossing through the living room before stepping into the kitchen.

Even before he gets there, Lucifer can smell the pancakes and he moans involuntarily at the scent, moving over to the stove where Michael is standing, flipping pancakes in a pan. “Good morning,” Lucifer offers as he reaches over the grab a blueberry pancake off a plate on the back burner.

Michael doesn’t even chastise him; he only smiles and hums happily to himself as he flips another pancake, before sliding it onto the plate. “Morning! How’d you sleep?” Michael’s voice is a little too cheery for Lucifer and he laughs, tearing the pancake in his hand in half before stuffing a piece into his mouth.

He chews, swallows, and watches Michael carefully. “I slept great,” he admits because, really, he did sleep pretty well after getting off, “how about you?”

“I slept okay,” Michael shrugs as he pours batter into the pan and giggles at the sizzling; he’s always loved to cook and his giggle only reminds Lucifer of just how young Michael really is.

“Just okay?” Lucifer pops the other half of the pancake into his mouth, chewing as he watches hesitation flash across Michael’s face before he turns back to the pan, chewing on his lower lip. “What’s wrong?”

Looking up, Michael locks eyes with Lucifer and shakes his head. “Nothing,” he replies quietly, turning back to the pan, flipping the pancakes over. Lucifer sighs heavily but doesn’t push it, doesn’t ask Michael what’s going on when there’s something clearly wrong with him — or maybe it’s Lucifer’s imagination.

They stand in silence for a while until their mother comes in, dressed in her scrubs, announcing that she has to go cover for one of the other nurses. Lucifer leans against the counter and smiles when she comes over and kisses his cheek, muttering something about going out and doing something with Michael.

When she gets to his brother, Lucifer watches as they hug each other and he wonders how long he’ll keep his sexual encounters away from their mother; it would kill her to know that her youngest son is a sexual deviant. She leaves shortly after that, taking a container of pancakes with her, bidding both her sons goodbye as she walks out the door.

Michael waits a few minutes before turning to Lucifer. “You didn’t tell her,” he says, forming the statement to sound like a question and Lucifer shakes his head, snatching another pancake off of the plate. 

“I didn’t tell her,” Lucifer says in a flat voice before moving to the living room. He sits on the couch and leans back, pulling his feet up, resting his heels against the edge of the coffee table. As he sits there, Lucifer listens to Michael in the kitchen and he eats slowly, chewing as he thinks of what he and his brother could do on a Saturday. 

When Lucifer’s done with his pancake, he wipes his hands on his pajama bottoms and reaches over to grab the remote from the table, turning the television on. He goes through the channels once and finally decides on a movie that he’s never seen before, but it looks to be the most interesting thing on at the hour. 

“Hey, Mikey?” Lucifer calls out, leaning back against the couch, an arm thrown over the back of it; he grins when Michael comes out of the kitchen, standing only a few feet away from where Lucifer is sitting. “Why don’t you just leave the dishes for later, huh? Come spend some time with your brother.” He can see the hesitation on Michael’s face, watches as he turns back (no doubt looking at the sink full of dishes) and smiles when the kid nods.

Michael moves toward the couch and jumps over the arm, settling into a spot next to Lucifer, but far enough away so that they’re not touching. It’s probably for the best, Lucifer thinks as he crosses his arms over his chest and runs his tongue along his teeth.

They watch the movie in silence for a while and Lucifer’s mind starts wandering off; he thinks about what he did last night and what Michael admitted to him and he swallows hard, closing his eyes. His head tips back against the couch and he sighs heavily, thinking about Michael on the middle of his bed, squirming underneath him as Lucifer fucks him nice and slow.

He’s not sure how long he sits there, thinking about fucking his brother and doing other things to him, but when the weight beside him shifts and disappears, Lucifer snaps his eyes open. Turning to Michael, he frowns when he sees that his brother is walking back to the kitchen and suddenly a light bulb goes off in his head. 

Swallowing hard, Lucifer gets to his feet and turns the television off before moving to the kitchen, standing right behind Michael. At first he just watches; he leans against the counter, crosses is legs at the ankles and watches Michael wash the dishes. This gets boring after a while and pushes off the counter, moving his hands around the front of Michael’s pajamas, settling his hands just over the waistband.

“Lucifer, what are you doing?” Michael’s voice sounds alarmed but otherwise calm as Lucifer bends down, breathing against the shell of Michael’s ear. He doesn’t think that his brother wants this until Michael groans and tips his head back, laying it on Lucifer’s shoulder.

 _Perfect_ , Lucifer thinks to himself as he bites Michael’s earlobe. “I can’t stop thinking about Dean’s hands all over you,” he whispers, words falling against Michael’s ear in a soft breath, “and your hands all over him, that filthy old man that seduced my baby brother.” Lucifer knows that it’s not true — that it’s the other way around — but he says it anyway.

A moan falls from Michael’s lips and he drops the plate he had in his hand; it clatters into the sink, but doesn’t break, something they’re both grateful for. He moves his wet hands to Lucifer’s and squeezes them, his fingertips moving along the backs of his brother’s hands, inching toward his wrist.

“Can’t stop thinking that you should be mine, Mikey,” Lucifer breathes the words out and sucks on a spot near the hickey Dean left; he bites down on the skin until Michael lets out a loud groan, then he pulls back. “I thought about you, fucking him, and I got  _so turned on_  — but I was also jealous, thinking about him fucking you for the first time. Did he, Mikey? Was Dean your first?”

Michael pulls his head away from Lucifer’s shoulder and shakes it, sucking in a deep breath when his brother grinds against his ass; he squeaks and moves his hands to the edge of the sink. “No, he wasn’t — wasn’t the first,” he whispers, biting down on his lower lip, trying not to push back against Lucifer.

“Then who was, Mikey?” The words come out as a growl and Lucifer presses Michael against the counter, moving both hands to his, holding them against the sink. “Some boy at your school, huh? Some kid that had a crush on you and you let fuck because you wanted it, like the slut you are.”

Swallowing hard, Michael nods and groans out, “Yeah, a senior.”

“No surprise there,” Lucifer chuckles, pulling away from Michael, dropping his hands at his sides, stuffing them into his pockets. “Do you ever think about me, Mikey?” He asks this casually, like they’re talking about the weather or what’s on TV, as he leans back against the counter, watching as Michael turns, eyes locking on his own.

“What do you mean?” Michael asks, voice tight and squeaky; Lucifer laughs quietly at it, shaking his head slowly as he licks his lips. He looks at Michael and wonders how long he’s been having sex, or how long he’s even been into guys; Lucifer knew that he was into men when he was thirteen, he just never told anyone — not even Michael.

Sighing, Lucifer crosses his arms over his chest. “I mean, have you thought about me in a way that you shouldn’t have? Thought about me while you were fucking someone else, maybe even touching yourself.” The look on Michael’s face answers Lucifer’s question; the blush that creeps across his brother’s cheeks makes him smile and he moves forward.

When he’s an inch away from Michael, Lucifer cups his jaw lightly and tilts his face up, leaning down to brush their lips together. The kiss is soft and slow at first, messy and awkward and Lucifer has to stop himself from laughing when he realizes that his brother  _probably hasn’t_  had many sexual experiences. 

“How many times have you been with a guy?” Lucifer asks when he pulls away, his mouth only a couple of inches away from Michael’s. His brother’s lips part and his tongue darts over the lower one, tracing it carefully as he thinks, shrugging his shoulders quickly. “You can tell me,” Lucifer reassures him, thumbing across his cheek slowly, smiling.

“Not many - just the senior and Dean.” The admission makes Lucifer’s body tingle and he can feel his cock harden in his pajama pants; in the back of his mind, Lucifer knows that this is wrong and he pushes the thoughts away, burying them deeper. 

His smile grows and he nods. “That’s okay. Have you ever given a blowjob?”

Michael shakes his head, his cheeks turning a darker shade of crimson; Lucifer thinks that it’s adorable and leans in carefully, kissing the blush, his lips dragging across Michael’s skin before he pulls away. 

“Come on.” Lucifer takes Michael’s hand and pulls him toward the hallway, leading him to his bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot. He pushes Michael inside and follows, shutting and locking the door behind them, though Lucifer knows that their mother will be gone until late in the evening. “Take your clothes off and get on the bed for me, Mikey.” 

Lucifer leans back against the door and watches as Michael stops near the bedroom; he throws a look back at Lucifer, who smiles at him and licks his lips, waiting. With a sigh, Michael pulls his shirt off and tosses it onto the floor, hands immediately going to his pajama pants; with quick fingers, he unties them and pushes the elastic down his hips, letting the fabric slide down his legs.

From the door, Lucifer watches and bites his lower lip, looking at Michael’s naked body, admiring it quietly; the voice in the back of his head pipes up and reminds him that Michael is his brother — that he’s only sixteen. He ignores the voice and watches as his brother moves to the bed, laying on the mattress on his back, legs spread like this he’s done this a dozen times before.

“Good boy,” Lucifer breathes, pushing off the door to move over to the bed, kneeling against the edge of the mattress, moving a hand along Michael’s stomach, feeling him shuddering underneath the touch. He smiles and drags his fingers between Michael’s abs before dragging them down to his cock, teasing the head slowly. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispers, before moving onto the bed between his brother’s legs, spreading them with his knees.

Something like a squeak comes from Michael’s throat and he spreads his legs as wide as they’ll go, eyes locked on Lucifer, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He breathes evenly, sucking each breath through his nose and exhaling quietly, his chest rising and falling; Lucifer bends down to kiss it, fearful that Michael may be anxious or nervous about this. “Don’t worry,” he whispers against his chest, “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

The words seem to calm Michael and he breathes slowly, his head tilting back against the pillow, one hand going to Lucifer’s hair, long fingers tangling in it, giving it a few tugs. A hiss leaves Lucifer’s lips and he kisses Michael’s chest, biting in a few places before he moves down, kissing and licking his stomach, making his way down to his brother’s cock.

When Lucifer gets low enough, he licks a stripe across the head of Michael’s cock and grins when he sucks in a deep breath, the fingers in his hair tightening. He does it again and slides his tongue down the underside, before moving over Michael’s balls, reveling in the noises he pulls from his brother’s throat.

“Turn onto your stomach,” Lucifer mumbles before giving Michael’s balls one last, long lick; he sits up on his knees and watches Michael turn over on. Once he’s face down, Lucifer pulls him onto his knees and spreads his legs slowly, moving both hands up the backs of his thighs; he spreads Michael’s ass and leans down, pressing the flat of his tongue against his entrance.

“Oh,” Michael moans, arching his chest toward the bed, sticking his ass out more, fingers tangling in the sheets. Chuckling from behind, Lucifer keeps licking and pressing his tongue against Michael’s ass harder, just barely slipping the tongue in once before pulling it out. He spreads his cheeks more and spits on Michael’s entrance before leaning back in, licking him until Michael is a squirming, writhing mess in his hands, his body shaking so bad that Lucifer actually stops for a moment.

A variety of noises and curse words come from Michael’s mouth and Lucifer licks his lips, leaning in to lick his ass harder. He shakes his head from side to side and tries to get his tongue in further, moaning at the way Michael pushes back against him and the way he moans his name. The soft moan that holds his name makes Lucifer’s cock throb in his pajama bottoms and he growls against Michael’s ass, squeezing both cheeks roughly.

“God, Michael, your ass is perfect,” Lucifer mumbles before spitting on Michael’s entrance again; he keeps licking until Michael screams that he’s going to come and then he pulls away, letting go of his ass. A whimper fills the room, high and drawn out, and Lucifer smirks, moving his fingers over Michael’s entrance that’s still wet from where he spit on it.

“Want you to fuck me..” The words come out in a squeak and Lucifer leans forward, pressing his lips against Michael’s shoulder; he barely hears the words and he chuckles against his brother’s skin, pushing a finger inside. He groans at just how tight and hot Michael feels around the digit and he pushes it in further, listening to the loud, drawn out moans he elicits from Michael.

The finger slips in and out with ease, guiding by Lucifer’s spit, and he pulls the digit out, pressing a second against Michael’s entrance. He pushes in slowly and carefully, listening to the way his brother’s breath hitches in his throat; Lucifer would guess that it’s been a while since he’s been fucked, so he decides to go slow. 

Eventually, Lucifer works a rhythm and he pumps his fingers in and out of Michael quickly, moving a hand around to his cock, just barely touching it. The touch sends an electric shock of pleasure down Michael’s spine and he bucks back against Lucifer’s hand, fucking his fingers slowly as he rides the pleasure out. With small touches to Michael’s cock, Lucifer starts to scissor his fingers slowly, working his younger brother open, listening to him come undone underneath him.

“You wanna come, Mikey?” Lucifer’s voice is raw and low, rough when the words come out and even worse when he moans, feeling Michael’s muscles clench around his fingers. He gets his answer in the form of a throaty moan, the buck of Michael’s hips, and the slick precome that’s coating his fingers when they move across the head of his cock.

Lucifer pulls his fingers out and leans down, spitting on Michael’s entrance before pressing three against them, pushing them back in slowly. He grips the base of Michael’s cock and strokes him slowly, working both hands in time with one another, listening to the moans and whimpers that come from Michael’s chest; each noise goes straight to Lucifer’s cock and he bites down on his lip.

“Come on,” he encourages, twisting his wrist as he strokes Michael harder, causing him to moan loudly, “come for me and I’ll fuck you.” Lucifer crooks his fingers and starts separating them more, pulling a scream from Michael’s throat as he comes, hips bucking back and forth as he buries his face in a pillow, muffling his noises. 

Stilling his fingers, Lucifer keeps stroking Michael through his orgasm, leaning over to kiss the middle of his back, whispering things against it; he tells Michael it’s okay, that he’s got him, and he pulls his hand away from his brothers cock. Lucifer wipes his hand on the sheets and laughs, thinking about how he’ll have to clean them before their mother comes home, but he’s not too worried about that. 

He settles back on his heels and rubs Michael’s thigh slowly. “How was that?”

“G-good,” Michael stammers, breathing hard as he pushes away from the pillow, letting out a heavy sigh. “The hardest I’ve — I’ve c-come in a while,” he admits, and Lucifer imagines that his face is bright pink from blushing, the thought bringing a smile to his face. 

“I’m glad,” he replies, pulling his fingers out of Michael slowly, apologizing when he hisses. Lucifer knows that he should have used more lube, but he was too caught up in the moment; he wonders, for a moment, if Michael’s okay to be fucked, and decides to ask. “Do you think that you’ll be able to take my cock, or is your ass too sore? We don’t have to do it today — we can wait a while, if it’s too bad.”

Michael shakes his head and looks at Lucifer over his shoulder. “I’m good,” he replies, giving his older brother a smile, grazing his teeth over his bottom lip. Lucifer nods his head and mumbles okay, leaning over to run a hand through Michael’s hair, pushing the sweaty, messy locks away from his face, smiling at him.

They sit in silence while Michael calms down, his breathing returning to normal as Lucifer cards a hand through his hair, still smiling at him; he ignores the fact that his cock is throbbing in his pajama bottoms and focuses on Michael. When his brother nods his head, Lucifer takes that as a sign that he’s ready and he moves off the bed, walking over to the dresser.

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” Lucifer says as he opens a drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom, putting the wrapper between his lips as he shuts the drawer. He turns and sees that Michael listened; he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, both hands on his lap, cock already half-hard again. “Jesus,” Lucifer mumbles around the wrapper as he steps forward, dropping the things onto the bed. 

Michael pushes Lucifer’s pajama pants down without being asked and he growls, lifting a hand to the back of the youngest’s neck, cupping it lightly. His fingertips brush along the hair that lies at the base of his skull and he breathes deeply through his nose, giving his cock a stroke before pulling Michael forward, giving him a silent command.

“Just go slow, okay? Don’t take too much and try not to use your teeth; it’s okay if you use a little, but don’t scrape my cock too badly,” Lucifer laughs the last few words out and tightens his grip on Michael’s neck, shuddering when he feels his soft lips move over the head of his cock.

It takes all Lucifer has not to open Michael’s mouth with his fingers and shove his cock into it, fuck his face and make him gag. He reminds himself that this is the first time Michael’s done this, and he doesn’t wanna scare the kid off blowjobs forever, so he lets him take his time, lets him explore and get the hang of it.

Michael starts off with slow, tentative licks along the head before he wraps his lips around it, sucking carefully; the feeling is intense and Lucifer has to stop his hips from bucking forward. He bites his lip and looks down, watching as the head of his cock disappears between Michael’s lips and damn if that kid doesn’t have a mouth and lips that were made for sucking cock.

“That’s it,” Lucifer praises, smoothing a hand over the back of Michael’s head, moaning softly, “just like that, take a little more —  _fuck_.” When a few inches of his cock slide between Michael’s lips and he starts sucking messily, Lucifer groans and drops his head back, eyes shutting tightly. 

Moving both hands to the back of Michael’s head, Lucifer guides him gently, helping him bob his head until he feels him gag around his cock; Michael pulls off, mutters an apology and, just when Lucifer’s about to say it’s alright, he sinks back down onto his cock.

A loud groan leaves Lucifer’s chest and he pants heavily, fingers tangling in Michael’s long, black locks, tugging them fiercely. He’s trying to get Michael to come forward, to take more of his cock, but his brother doesn’t budge; he stays in one place, sucking his cock without finesse or any sort of rhythm, though Lucifer doesn’t mind. The whole thing is awkward and messy — he can hear just how sloppy Michael is with his sucking — and Lucifer’s head is dizzy, his chest tightening as he tries to remember to breathe.

“Okay, gotta stop, Mikey,” Lucifer chuckles breathlessly, pulling his cock away from his brother’s lips, groaning at the disappointing whine Michael makes. “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop, and I wanna fuck you first,” he adds, stroking his cock once before reaching over to grab the condom off the bed.

Michael pouts and it’s the sexiest pout Lucifer has ever seen. “I can suck your cock later, if you want,” he says, the statement sounding more like a question.

“Yeah,” Lucifer replies, licking his lips as he tears the wrapper open, “you can suck my cock all you want, at least until mom comes home.” It’s the first time either of them has mentioned their mother and Lucifer stops for a second, looking at Michael quietly. When his younger brother gives no sign that he wants to stop or that he feels guilty, Lucifer takes the condom out and rolls it over his cock.

As he strokes himself, Lucifer looks at Michael and chews his lip, thinking for a second before turning to his closet. He grabs a belt from a hanger in the back of the door and shuts it with his foot, coming over to the bed. “Get on your knees and wrap your hands around the post on the headboard,” he commands, watching as Michael obeys. 

It takes Michael a minute to get situated on his knees and he sticks his ass out when he’s ready, hands wrapped around the middle post of the headboard. He looks at Lucifer over his shoulder and grins, biting at his lower lip, his face and neck flushed slightly; Lucifer thinks it’s adorable in a weirdly sexy way, and he smiles back. 

“I’m going to use this to keep your hands in place,” he explains, showing Michael the belt before he loops it around his wrists, working it back to wrap around the post. It takes three loops before Lucifer and secure the belt and he moves Michael’s wrists, testing the security of the belt, grinning when it doesn’t slip. “Perfect,” he mutters, moving to take his position on the bed behind Michael.

Lucifer grabs the bottle of lube and pops it open, pouring some of it onto his cock before stroking it in, rubbing the excess against Michael’s entrance. He slips two fingers into his brother without warning and scissors them just as Michael starts to moan, his lips curving into a slight grin.

“Fuck — fuck me, Luce. God,  _please_.” Michael begs incessantly and Lucifer pulls his fingers out, immediately replacing them with the head of his cock, rubbing it along the outside of Michael’s entrance. He teases for a moment, getting the kid nice and turned on, making him beg louder before he slides in quickly, the head of his cock pushing past the first ring of muscles.

The feeling of tight heat has tripled from what it was when Lucifer had his fingers in Michael; he groans as he pushes another inch of his cock into the kid, moving a hand to his hair, gripping it tightly. Pushing in slowly, Lucifer moans Michael’s name out and gasps loudly before bottoming out, feeling the muscles clench around him.

It’s almost too much for Lucifer to bear and he wants to come right there; he’s never been inside of someone so tight and he doesn’t know how long he’ll last. He gives Michael a moment to adjust before rocking his hips against his ass, moving his free hand to the space between his brother’s shoulders, pressing his palm against it. 

Moments pass and Lucifer pulls out halfway, only to slam back in roughly, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air, mingling with their noises; Michael is panting heavily and whispering Lucifer’s name like a prayer, which only makes him pull out and thrust in harder. The first few thrusts he gets in make Lucifer’s entire body shudder and he feels Michael clench around him again, slipping a hand down to his hip, gripping it hard enough to bruise. 

“Lucifer, fuck me harder,” Michael begs, his voice is high and the last half of ‘harder’ comes out as a moan. Without hesitation, Lucifer pulls out all the way and slams back in, leaning over Michael’s body, panting against his shoulder before biting it hard enough to break the skin.

A loud moan fills the room and Lucifer’s hips start jabbing against Michael’s ass harder, already losing rhythm before he had the chance to really establish one. He sucks on the bite mark and laves his tongue over it, his fingers digging into Michael’s hips roughly as he bites down again, determined to mark Michael as  _his_.

While Lucifer fucks him and bites his shoulder, Michael tugs on the belt and pushes back against his brother, moaning his name loudly; he wants to stroke his cock, wants desperately to come again, but he knows that he can’t. His breath comes out in short pants, accompanied by high keening noises and several curse words that Lucifer usually chastises him about using.

“Want me to stroke your cock,” Lucifer pants out when he pulls away; it’s not a question, but Michael moans out a yes anyway, bucking his hips back against Lucifer. When he feels a hand wrap around his cock, Michael nearly screams and fucks into Lucifer’s fist before pushing back against his hips, trying to get him to go harder.

The way that Michael is working his hips and moaning, it all goes to Lucifer’s head and he fucks him harder; their skin slaps together roughly and Lucifer can feel his entire body trembling, his hand slips off of Michael’s cock a few times. When the kid whines, Lucifer puts his hand back and strokes in time with his thrusts, hitting something inside of Michael that makes him moan out, saying that he’s getting closer to coming each time.

It takes a handful of thrusts and another few strokes for Michael to come a second time; he clenches his eyes shut and grits his teeth before moaning Lucifer’s name out at the top of his lungs. As he comes down, he pants heavily and whimpers, digging his fingertips into the backs of his other fingers. “Jesus..  _Lucifer_.”

“I know,” Lucifer growls out, moving his come-covered hand to Michael’s hair, tugging roughly at it as he latches back onto the bite mark on his shoulder. He bites down harder and sucks roughly, his hips slamming against Michael’s ass harder as his orgasm builds; he moans against his brother’s skin, tasting a hint of blood on his tongue but he doesn’t care about that.

With one final thrust, Lucifer sinks his teeth into Michael’s skin harder than before and sucks, moaning around it as he comes hard. His body shakes, fingers trembling as he drops them away from Michael’s hair, pressing his palm against the small of his back. One last thrust and Lucifer’s done; he pulls his mouth away and pants heavily, moaning Michael’s name quietly before collapsing against his back.

Neither of them say anything for a long time; they just breathe quietly and Lucifer kisses Michael’s shoulder gently, running his hand up and down his spine. When he feels like he can move successfully and without falling, Lucifer pulls out of Michael and shushes him when he whines. “You’re fine,” he says, kissing the middle of his brother’s back before pulling the condom off. 

He lays the used latex on the bed and undoes Michael’s hands enough to the point where he can free himself, grabbing the condom as he gets off the bed. Walking to the bathroom proves to be a difficult feat but Lucifer holds onto the wall the entire way and stops when his legs shaky too badly. 

Once inside the bathroom, Lucifer drops the condom into the trash can, reminding himself to clean it out before his mother gets home. He looks at himself in the mirror and laughs at how sweaty his skin is and how his hair is sticking out in a dozen different directions. Shaking his head, Lucifer grabs a towel and wets one end of it, flipping the lights off as he heads back out into the hall.

Walking back to his room is easier and he gets there without having to rely on the wall too much, finding Michael laying on the bed, which has been stripped of the sheets. 

“Thanks,” Lucifer says with a smile.

Michael shrugs and grins lazily. “Didn’t wanna lay in come,” he replies.

They laugh and Lucifer shakes his head, coming over to the bed, running the towel along Michael’s cock, biting his lip when the kid hisses. He sits him up a little and presses the wet end of the cloth against the mark on his shoulder, kissing his collarbone as he holds it there. “I’m sorry about that,” Lucifer mutters, looking at the blood that’s on the towel, frowning.

“I don’t mind.” The words come out as a soft yawn and Lucifer smiles, turning to kiss Michael’s temple, resting their heads together. They sit like this for a while and don’t speak until Lucifer pulls the towel away and tosses it to the floor. 

“C’mon,” he mumbles, pulling Michael down onto the bed, letting him lay in the crook of his arm, “I’m beat. We can take a nap before we have to get up and clean the house to make sure mom doesn’t know what we did.” Lucifer chuckles quietly and leans his head against Michael’s, listening to him hum.

In a few minutes, Michael is out and Lucifer pulls a blanket over both of them, wrapping both arms around his brother, holding him tight. He’s still jealous that Dean’s had sex with Michael before him, but he knows, in his heart, that Michael won’t go back to him, not after what they just did.

Lucifer falls asleep with a smile on his face and he dreams of doing other things with Michael; by the time he wakes up, Michael’s not in bed and he frowns, figuring he’s done something wrong. He looks over the side of the bed and notices that the sheets are gone and he breathes a sigh of relief.


End file.
